


hold me up, tie me down

by orphan_account



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: But Barry Is Working, F/M, Face-Sitting, Femdom, Implied Barriscowest, Iris Is The Best Boss, Light BDSM, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Riding, Rope Bondage, but no spoilers, season 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 17:52:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18451607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Iris is writing an article on rope bondage. Cisco volunteers to help with the hands on research.





	hold me up, tie me down

**Author's Note:**

> one time i saw this gifset of candice wrapping a microphone cord around carlos and then i died and then i talked to champ and we decided this is a thing that would happen. barry isn't actually here but he's discussed, so this is barriscowest, sexually and emotionally because they all love each other very much.

The camera doesn’t catch the shine of sweat on Cisco’s top lip. It doesn’t catch the way his mouth trembles, either, or the way it lifts saccharine when Iris brushes her knuckles along the heel of his foot. How he can capture sweetness like sunshine in glass even like this, coiled in thick black rope that stretches him lean and lovely, she’ll never quite puzzle out. Luckily, she doesn’t need to understand the appeal to appreciate it, enjoy it, and she smiles warmth into his lingering grin as she takes one last picture. 

“Do you think you got what you needed?” he asks, a little breathless. He hasn’t quite caught it since she asked him to model for this article. He’s answered each question and given each reassurance that the ropes aren’t too tight, that this position isn’t uncomfortable, that everything feels good, boss, and he’s spoken each word from a sturdy head space, but his chest still flutters butterfly wing.

Iris gingerly places the camera on the edge of the bed before kneeling beside him. His tongue sweeps his bottom lip when she leans over, leans in, hair brushing his neck and the rope keeping his arms pressed together and firm above his head. She touches his cheek with the same easy, gentle pressure she touched his heel. He sighs. 

“I think I got all the pictures,” she tells him. “But there are still a few more things I need from you.” 

He smiles, leaning into her touch. “Whatever you need, boss.” 

A tingle, warm as Cisco’s tongue, whispers down her spine. She loves that word on his mouth. Loves teasing it from it from him, tasting it on him. She chases it now, brushing their lips together, chaste then deep then wet. He moves to meet her and nothing more, bending where she pushes without breaking or snapping back. He’s so easy to mold in her hands, tired and sore from holding the world together. He’s such a balm. 

When she pulls away, she draws her teeth over his bottom lip, just to admire the ridges the bite will leave in his softness. He makes a breathy sound under the sharpness. It’s soothing. Even the undercurrent of desperation that laps against her own calms her head as it awakens the buzz in her skin. It wrestles the ache in her mouth, one that's throbbed since she stripped him naked and wrapped the first rope around his wrists. The throb spreads heavy through her limbs, in the low dip of her stomach, between her thighs.

The want built into something duller but more insistent as she continued to wrap him like a sweet, warm little present to herself. She draws her gaze over his arms, over the ropes that curve over his shoulders and hips and belly, meeting in a simple design in the middle of his chest. She bites her own lip at the sharp urges needling her tongue as she admires the cords around his thighs. 

A throb twists deep in her skin as her eyes settle on the thin rope tied at the base of his cock, keeping him flushed and rose wet for her. 

She already promised herself that would be the last gift she unwrapped, though, and with a heavy exhale she turns a smile to Cisco’s eager want. 

Her fingertips trace his lips. They part further for her, easy, and his tongue rests tempting at the surface.

“I think I need your mouth,” she breathes. She slides one finger between his teeth, pressing against the kitten soft of his tongue, and his only answer is to ache his jaw further open. He doesn’t lick, or kiss, or move. He takes whatever she gives him, no matter how little, and he does it with eyes glinting dark. 

She kisses him again. Harder this time, and not only her mouth, but her fingernails dragging over his collar bone, his chest, finding his nipples as peaked as her own. He shudders into the scratch, and her own thighs tremble under a heavy wave of want, and she has to ease away from the slick of his mouth before she bites right through him. 

The afternoon had begun in sweats, but she’d kicked her joggers off after she’d gotten Cisco wound together and up. She hadn’t bothered with a bra, partly because it was too much effort for a Sunday afternoon, partly because she wanted to tease Cisco with the hint of dark, hard nipples under thin white fabric. As she pulls the worn soft shirt off her head, tossing it carelessly on the floor, she’s thankful to her past self for making the decision. 

Cisco watches her, panting. He never hides how much he wants her to use him, how much he trusts her to use him, even like this. Especially like this. He told her once he never had a second thought when he was in her bed. He could barely hold on to the coherency to breathe, let alone hesitate, let alone wonder. Every part of him knew she would make it good. 

The familiar heat coils and uncoils. Something about the most powerful man in the multiverse gifting her complete submission with a please on his lips makes her toes curl. Makes her shoulders roll in lust and pride. Make her see her own skin as something greater, as something immaculate, deserving of the worship Cisco offers freely. 

She spreads her knees wider, teasing him, teasing herself, but she wants to sink her teeth in the anticipation just a moment longer. “Can I have it, Cisco?” she asks, thumb resting on his bottom lip.

He whiplash nods. “Yeah, boss.”

She smiles. “How?”

“However - ” She pinches his bottom lip between her thumb and forefinger, not enough to sting, but enough to make his dick twitch and her skin ache. When she releases him, he licks his lips. “However you want. However you need it.”

What she needs is that petal plush, petal soft mouth sucking her clit. What she does is curve her spine, bringing her chest to him, watching with self imposed desperation as she brushes one breast over his still open lips. She eases away and he chases her, the way he knows she likes, the way he knows she wants him to, and she watches the way his throat works as he strains to lick her. 

After a few moments she takes mercy on him, on herself, and leans into the warmth of his mouth. He moans around her and she moans back. It’s been too long since she’s had this. Since she’s taken it, since she’s taken anything, for herself. 

Cisco flicks his tongue over her nipple. She gasps, pressing into the pressure, then laughing breathlessly into it when he sharpens the soothing with his teeth. Her pussy aches, her entire body aches, and it’s sudden, how quickly his hungry mouth isn’t enough where it is. 

He tries to follow her when she eases away. It’s cute, in that vulnerable way that makes her teeth feel sharp in her mouth. She kisses him to gentle his disappointment. 

She considers leaving her panties on. Having him lick her over them, soaking the fabric and his chin with spit, then pushing them to the side, just enough that he has to strain to swirl his tongue where she needs it. Thrilling as it is to make him work for it, fucking perfect as it feels, she wants more. She wants to slip slide over every part of him, get that fat, wet tongue against and inside of her, and she doesn’t want to wait a breath longer. 

He sucks at her tongue as she pushes her underwear down and off. She’s close to shaking as she finally settles her knees on either side of his head. He knows better than to do anything but open his mouth when they’re in this position. 

Thankful that she invested in a sturdier headboard, she curls one palm around it, then drops her other hand between her legs. Cisco bites his lip in an effort not to chase the taste of her as she slips one finger between her lips, teasing her clit. She moans at the feeling then moans loader when she presses her wet finger to his mouth.

“That’s it, baby,” she praises. She touches herself again, pressing into her own finger, then feeds her wetness back to him. “You ready to do your job?”

He nods, muscles stretching and straining in his restraints, as if he could burst through them through sheer desire to taste her. “Yes, boss.”

She bites the inside of her cheek as she eases her hips down. Feather light as the sensation in her belly, at first, just soft skin brushing soft skin. Cisco’s fingers clench. It’s a white knuckled reminder of how much he wants to touch her. She feels it like a touch. Her own fingers find his hair, curling sturdy into his roots, then she uses her grip to rock his head. 

He takes direction the way he always does: open mouthed, eager, perfect. The first flick of his tongue on her pussy has her pulling his hair harder, has her rocking down with quivering thighs, has her groaning. Another slip slide and he’s groaning, too, vibrations of his pleasure and hunger filling her like another wet, wanton muscle. 

Her head falls back. “That’s perfect. You never forget how I like it, do you? Even when it’s been too long.” 

She gasps when he proves her right by dragging the flat of his tongue over her clit. He lets her direct his movements while she slicks herself over his jaw, keeping his swipes slow and soft and pink. It’s so gentle, like the barest hint of nails along her skin, coaxing goosebumps and blood rush to the surface. Her favorite way to be eased to the free fall of pleasure. 

It has been too long since she’s carved space for them, and the entire afternoon has been a molasses thick build up, and he sucks at her pussy lips like he’s a starving, starving thing. She feels dizzy close to coming within the next rolls of her hips. When she planned this, she’d planned to enjoy the strong line of his jaw and sturdy flicks of his tongue until Barry returned from his shift at the CCPD. But now, with Cisco lapping steadily at her heat, the idea of easing back, of telling him to lick her even slower, seems unbearably cruel. Impossible. 

She rocks forward, up, giving Cisco all the direction he needs to press the tip of his tongue against her cunt. He fucks inside, shallow at first, then deeper, then faster, and she rides the punch drunk of it with a breathy groan. She watches him move between her legs and cups her own chest, pinching herself where Cisco’s spit still has her warm and slick. 

Her mind races breathless between what she could do to him. What she wants to do him. Keep fucking herself on his tongue, rubbing her own clit until she spills messy over his chin. Slide again until he’s sucking on that spot that’s soft and swollen and pink. Use his thick dick like she’s been daydreaming about the past week. 

Then Cisco makes a broken sound against her. The drip drop of pleasure swells, and her clit throbs, and she knows without a doubt what she needs from him.

Taking a steadying breath, she tugs at his hair, urging him to swirl his tongue back over her instead of inside of her, urging him to make her come. His eyes fly open. She can’t help the grin that blooms at his lust black eyes. He doesn’t look away as he moves his tongue faster, and neither does she. Lust rolls and crescendos and she feels the pleasure slick buzz of her orgasm build. Build, and build, and when she yanks at Cisco’s hair, pushing his tongue harder against her clit, it breaks. 

She watches him as she moans and shivers and shudders through the wind up then down. His eyes have drifted back closed, peaceful, pleased with himself. When she catches her breath, she moves from over him to beside him, kneeling to open mouth kiss the mess she’s made of his pretty face. 

“Good?” he asks, voice rough. 

“Perfect.” She licks over his gasping mouth. “But I still need one more thing from you.” 

Before he can ask what, before he can offer it, ready to give without even knowing what she might ask for, she follows the coil of shiny black rope to his hips. He arches into nothing as she drags her nails over the cinnamon v of skin. His cock, still shiny at the tip, twitches with the movement.

Her legs shake when she settles to ride his cock. The afterglow of orgasm still has her head bright and light, still has her body feeling like nothing but sandpapered nerves. It overwhelms every sense, every sore twitch of muscle, every thought to slide on top of him. Her head falls back with the thickness of pleasure. 

“Iris, Iris - fuck.”

She loves the way he says her name. Pants it, gasps it, means it. He sounds more than needy as she settles against him, hips flush together. His arms flex above his head, fingers grasping, and she watches his stomach muscles contract. He wants to move. He wants to touch, and he wants to fuck her, but she knows he wants this more. She does too. 

So she takes it, leaning forward, kissing him while she rocks up then down. Knowing his cock is wrapped sweet and tight, no chance of him coming until she’s absolutely ready, drives her hips harder. She can ride him as fast and desperate as she wants, snapping quick enough to fill the apartment with slick sex sounds, and burn in the security that she can keep going. Get as much as she wants, as long as she wants, as deep and hard and good as she wants. 

She pushes herself back, sitting spine straight. It settles Cisco even deeper inside of her. She moans into it. Cisco fills her, fat and thick, hitting her where she needs it. Her eyes close and any thought in her head that isn’t spinning around how good Cisco’s cock feels inside of her fades to a background buzz of pleasure. 

Her hands find her breasts again. She grips herself, harder than she normally would, but the extra pinch of her nails and the weight of Cisco watching her desperately wracks her to the bone. 

“Cisco,” she pants, and fuck, she could come again. Feels like she could shake apart from the way his arms flex against the restrains, from the way he moans and clenches his jaw in an attempt not to move his hips with her. If she touched herself, if she just pressed her finger finger against her clit and swirled, she could clench and soak Cisco’s cock until they both couldn’t breathe. 

But it would be a shame not to wreck Cisco’s gorgeous face even further. She bounces on him a few more times, grinding her hips, taking him as quick and harsh as she can. He calls her name like he’s choking on pleasure. With effort, she slips off his dick. 

He whines. When she catches his eyes, they’re wet. She’s sure she’s seen him needier, sure she’s brought him to even shakier knees, but she can’t remember the last time she saw him so desperate to come. He moans a broken sound when she wraps her hand around him. 

“You look so pretty tied up like this,” she whispers. “Especially here.” She runs her fingertip around the rope holding his orgasm at bay. “I almost don’t want to unwrap you.” 

“Iris - ”

She loosen her grip, rubbing her palm feather light over his dick. “I’d keep you like this all the time. But I think it might be too conspicuous in your suit.” 

He tries, she can tell he tries, not to fuck into her fist. His hips lift off the bed when she rubs her thumb over his slit. But he’s flattening his body against the mattress within in a breath, apologizing, his still slick mouth pouting so pretty that she can't resist kissing the shudder from his lips.

“M’sorry, boss - ” 

“Shh, baby. You did good. You're doing so good.” She cups his cheek and he aches into the touch. “I just need one more thing from you, okay? Can you do it for me?”

“Yeah. Whatever you need.”

She smiles, kisses him, whispers against his wet mouth. “I need you to come for me.”

Cisco makes a soft, hurt noise that settles hot over her skin. She licks another groan from his mouth before resuming her earlier position, thighs pressing to Cisco's cheeks. This time, she faces the end of the bed, settling on Cisco's panting tongue with the perfect view of his thighs flexing against rope and his cock curved full and aching. 

She enjoys the pressure of his tongue, filling her even better than before, now that she's slicker and looser from riding Cisco breathless. Her arms wobble whine a little as she extends them, trying to hold herself steady as she bends to lick the head of Cisco's cock. 

Cisco moans her name. Doesn't stop as she gathers spit on her tongue then laves it over him. Doesn't stop until she manages to get one hand on the rope and tug it undone. 

“Not - Iris, I'm not, I'm gonna - ” 

“Just a little longer,” she breathes. “I'm so close. Just a little longer, and we can come together.”

He whimpers his agreement against her thigh. Then he kisses from her leg back to her pussy, tongue catching her dripping wet mess. She slides her legs as far apart as she can, spreading herself since Cisco can't. 

She doesn't touch him again until she can feel her orgasm gnawing at her surface. It aches wet and just within reach. All she needs is a few more swipes of his sure, eager tongue, and her hips will fold under the pressure. 

The closeness almost catches her off guard. She wishes she'd left the make shift cock ring on a bit longer, just enough to give herself time to enjoying sucking Cisco down while he licked her up. It's one of their mutual favorite positions. Iris loves his mouth on her, loves putting her mouth on him. 

She reminds herself there’s always next week, tomorrow, thirty minutes from now, to sate herself. For now, she takes Cisco in her mouth, swallowing him down as far as the position will allow her, groaning at the slide of him hard and hot against her cheeks. He groans between her legs and the vibration of his pleasure, slipping over her as wet and sloppy as his tongue, slams her that much closer. 

Her own tongue works against him. She moves faster, matching his speed, and brings her hands to grip his thighs. The flesh gives under her fingernails the same way Cisco gives beneath her. She squeezes harder, hard enough to make him whimper whine, and he responds by sucking her aching clit between his teeth.

It’s enough to make her legs wobble, feel too flimsy to hold herself over him. His thighs flex beneath her hands, solid, keeping her steady as she rides her orgasm out on his face. Her mouth softens, pleasure slacking her jaw, loosening her throat and the way she takes him down it. She feels spit gather then drip where she can’t suck him quite as tightly, too honey warm, but he doesn’t mind the mess. He sighs into it, says please, boss, please, and comes.

The feeling of him pulsing wet at the back of her throat makes her grin. She smiles through sucking just the head of his cock, and when he makes a shaking sound, she pulls away, just to watch then lick the final bead of come from his slit. 

“Ris,” he gasps, can’t even say her full name, he’s so drunk on her taste and the come down of pleasure. It makes her toes curl. Makes her want to ease back down onto his tongue, onto his dick, and lick each other past the brink all over again. 

But her knees can barely withstand the rolling aftershocks of pleasure. Her chest is light and giddy, the way Cisco always fills her, and her mind is lazy bright, cleared of stress and doubt and exhaustion by Cisco’s worship. Her body is a thread away from unraveling, though. Soreness spreads from her hip bones through her thighs as she finally rolls away.

She settles at Cisco’s side. Her hand finds Cisco’s, and she pets her fingertips over the sliver of wrist exposed from the rope, feeling his pulse thrum. She presses herself as close to his side as she can manage. The ropes feel silky slick against her still sensitive skin.

He turns to her as she watches him. “Kiss?” he asks, hopeful and so obscenely sweet that she couldn’t keep her mouth from his if she wanted to. 

They kiss until Iris’ jaw feels as tired as Cisco’s must. The spit and slick of her still coats him, making their kisses sloppy, messy things that settle low in her spine. She loves the way he tastes like this. 

He makes a happy sound into her mouth, and she licks it right back out of him. They move against each other until breathing becomes marginally more important than lapping at swollen lips. 

She sighs, content, and rests her head on the rope coiled around his shoulder. He rests his head against hers. 

“What kind of article was this for, anyway?” he asks softly. 

Tracing the rope over his chest, she smiles. “It’s for a new blog. Something just for fun.”

“That’s good. You deserve something just for fun.” 

She almost tells him that’s what he’s for, just to make him smile, but bites her tongue. Cisco is more than that. He knows, but she would hate to see a shadow of doubt, even for a moment. He’s too bright. 

“So are you… I mean. How long do you need me like this?”

Longer than she’s had him, she thinks. She lifts her head to study him. There’s no discomfort in his face. No twitching itch to free himself. When she cradles his jaw, he closes his eyes and sighs. 

“I have what I need for my article,” she says, quiet, sweeping her thumb over his cheekbone.

“But do you have everything you need from me?”

She smiles. Kisses his cheek, then his jaw, then brushes her lips over his earlobe. He shudders. “I told Barry I would take pictures. Since he was so disappointed he wouldn’t get to see.”

Cisco tilts into her mouth. “Yeah?”

“Mmm. But the pictures don’t really do you justice, Cisco.” The praise has him squirming, stretching, pressing against his restraints and against her. It feels good, the shift of his muscle and the rope, rubbing against her thighs, stomach, nipples. She nuzzles into his neck. “You’re so pretty, all tied up like this. And Barry’s been working so hard. I think this is something he deserves to see, don’t you?”

She feels him nod. A thrill of heat goes through her. She wonders how many times she can ride Cisco again before Barry gets home. How messy she can soak him with spit and come and shudders. 

“When,” he starts, gasping when she nips at his jaw. “When is he coming home?”

Glancing at the clock, she kisses the red she just bit. “Less than an hour. Think you can help me pass the time?”

He grins, brilliant, and rocks closer to her. “I’ll do my best, boss.” 


End file.
